The Dating Experiment (The Experiment, #2)(30)

Mellie walked back around the desk and sat in her chair. “Well, he’s that person to you, isn’t he?”

“No. I want to marry someone who is capable of keeping hold of their keys without losing them for longer than two weeks. I want someone who’s reliable and steady and doesn’t need their hand to be held because they’re a mess. I already have you and Peyton for that.”

“Hey!”

Jake cough-snorted into his hand. Except it was a little more snort than cough, and that didn’t work out well for him. He ended up actually coughing and smacked his fist against his chest to clear it.

Mellie shot him a dark look. “I don’t mean his stupid parts. I’m sure there are lots of things about you that piss him off—”

“Like what?”

“Well,” Jake said croakily. “As the third party here—Mellie, honey, you’re a hot mess, and she’s right. Between you and Peyton, she doesn’t need another adoptee on that train,” he said to her. “And, Chloe? Darlin’, don’t take this the wrong way, but you can be difficult to get along with.”

My jaw dropped. “How so? I’m the nicest of all of us!”

“I am inclined to agree with you in general there,” he said warily, shooting Mellie a look, “But you have your moments. Sometimes you’re a little…uptight.”

“Uptight?”

Mellie grimaced.

“You’re just… you’re strung quite tight.” He was looking like he regretted opening his mouth. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s part of your personality. Like how Mel’s clumsy as fuck and Peyton is a little OCD about things.”

“I’m not clumsy,” she grumbled.

Even I scoffed at that. It was a wonder she could do her mascara every day without poking herself in the eye.

“So, Mellie’s clumsy, Peyt’s OCD, and I’m uptight?” I clarified.

Jake swayed. “Not in a bad way. You’re just…Fuck how do I say this? Particular? No. Shit.”

I stared at him.

“I think what he’s trying to say is you’re put together. Out of all three of us, you’re the one who, in general, has your shit together,” Mellie interjected. “And given how useless we are, that makes you uptight.” She shrugged a shoulder.

I’d never thought of myself as uptight before. A little highly strung, maybe, but not uptight.

“Highly strung!” Jake clapped his hands together once. “You’re highly strung.”

“Did you just read my mind?” I muttered. “Maybe I am, but we’re not kids. We’re not old, sure, but Dom is almost thirty and can’t keep hold of his damn keys to save his life. I just don’t understand how I can be the benchmark he holds all other women to.”

Jake shook his head. “You three are made for each other, I swear. Maybe he has feelings for you, Chloe. There’s something there if you’re the one he compares everyone else to.”

“So? Why did he never tell me?”

“You never told him,” Mellie pointed out.

“No, but we had a fight a few weeks ago at Peyton’s, and I told him I used to have a crush on him.”

“Generally, guys don’t just blurt out how they feel mid-argument. There’s enough emotion happening already, and we can only take so much in small doses.” Jake crossed his arms. “We’ll wait until a quieter time.”

“Mid-argument isn’t a quieter time,” I said. “Especially not when he’s fighting with me.”

“True story,” Mellie muttered.

I shot her a dark look.

Jake sighed. “All I’m saying is that I get where he’s coming from. And I can’t say anything else without incriminating myself.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” Mellie stared at him.

He shook his head. “No. Just from a guy’s perspective, that’s all. In the meantime, I have work to do, so while you’re slacking off to be a good friend, I’ll go call Peyton and order you all pizza.”

“You’re so sweet.” Mellie smiled.

“And adjust the roster because you’ll now owe me three hours.” He grinned and darted out of the office just as Mellie threw a pen and missed.

“Never date your boss,” she said, looking at me.

“Or your co-boss?” I replied in a weary tone. “Because I think I have an issue with him.”

Her pale-pink lips thinned into a sympathetic line. “I know, honey. I know.”

***

I only knew one thing.

My head felt as though a sumo wrestler was sitting on it.

I groaned, rolling over. Coincidentally, my stomach rolled, too. I stilled, closing my eyes in the hope the room no longer spinning would help ease my nausea.

That was the last time I was going to allow Jake to make me sangria.

In fact, I don’t think I ever wanted to drink sangria again.

“Here,” Peyton’s croaky voice made me open my eyes.

Slowly, I looked up at her. I was in her spare room, clothed except for my pants, and she was leaning over me with a glass of water and two pills.

I gingerly brought myself up to sit and leaned against the headboard. Taking the pills and glass from her, I murmured a rough, “Thank you,” and took them. “How are you walking?” I asked.